


outward appearances

by Flora_Obsidian



Series: found families [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, Military Uniforms, Stormtrooper Culture, Stormtrooper Rebellion, The First Order Is Terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flora_Obsidian/pseuds/Flora_Obsidian
Summary: And here he stands, in an Officer's uniform. He cannot reconcile himself with the reflection in the mirror, so contradictory to all he knows about himself.(ffv snippet based off that one image of Rose and Finn in the behind-the-scenes vid forThe Last Jedi)





	outward appearances

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post with this image of Finn and Rose and the comment was like "they are on a MISSION to ASSASSINATE HUX" and while I fully support that mission, I really couldn't help but think about it in the context of this 'verse and the worldbuilding that's happened in _i, rebel_.
> 
> Contains kinda-spoilers for future events in _i, rebel_ that haven't actually been written yet, but I haven't really been concealing a lot of things, just the details as to how we get there, so....... if you want to read things in strictly chronological order, go read elsewhere, but otherwise, enjoy!

..

“This is a kriffing _mess_ ,” says Finn.

“You look fine?” Rey answers, though its a statement with enough hesitance to make it a question, like she's unsure of what to say. Poe's brow furrows slightly in confusion:

“She's right,” he adds on. “Espionage is risky, same with everything else we do, but our guys know what they're doing. Everything's planned down to the last detail; you go in with Rose, get out. I can give you copies of the contingency plans if it'll help.”

“No, it's not--” Finn opens his mouth and finds that no words come; closes it again; makes an upset noise and frowns at the image of himself in the mirror: pressed gray fabric, cap, insignia, rank markings. A uniform. A _First Order_ uniform.

It's something he'll never be able to forget, the irrefutable, unshakeable _fact_ of personhood in the Order. Officers are people, and non-ranking personnel are people. Troopers, Cadets-- no. And he knows better, now, he's learning to understand an entire galaxy kept secret from him for close to two decades; he knew even before he and Poe had found each other. It's a lot harder for the Order to censor what makes it into the Trooper divisions when their Troopers are out of the training barracks, stationed on starships and far-away outposts or even _planetside_ , if they're lucky, but at that point the fear of repercussions from stepping out of line keeps infractions to a minimum.

But Troopers are not Officers are not people. That line of separation was – and still is, for those still under the Order's control – distinct. And Finn was – and still is, in some ways, though he is never going back _except he is_ – a Trooper, and for a long time, FN-2187 was not a person, because Troopers are not Officers are not people.

And here he stands, in an Officer's uniform. He cannot reconcile himself with the reflection in the mirror, so contradictory to all he knows about himself.

“It's--” he tries again, and can't, and sees Rey's expression start to turn worried along with Poe's. There are other people that the Resistance can send on his mission-- the only reason they're risking Finn is because Finn knows more about how the First Order works than their intelligence operatives on hand, and the mission itself is straightforward, get in and get out, and Rose is good at what she does, and they work decently together. If he lets them start talking, he knows they'll be able to talk him out of going. And he wants to let them-- the idea of walking back into the First Order _terrifies_ him, but he knows that this mission works best with him in this place. Not relaying info over the comms, but _here_ , in this uniform.

“It's just odd,” he lies, and smiles in a way that he knows will put them at ease until he can gather his thoughts again, until he can articulate why the uniform makes him feel so ill-at-ease, can explain years of black-and-white thoughts and endless conditioning. He _will_ explain, before he flies out, even, but-- he can't. He tried, and he can't, not now. “Only ever got to wear the armor.”

It works; Finn wears the uniform for a few more minutes while they talk until his reflection starts to make his skin crawl and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he shoos them out so he can change in private. Then he stares his reflection down for a few minutes longer, because he can't be visibly uncomfortable when the mission starts-- and then he strips in record time, folding it up and out of sight, and ducks out to the empty hangars in the back of the most recent base. Em-Kay likes to teach her kids, there, for the privacy of it; she likes to spend her free time there, too, for the same reason.

* * *

The younger girl doesn't look up when he sits heavily down next to her on the floor; she's drawing with charcoal on the durasteel plating. Like with him, when he first came to the Resistance, the defectors have been given tasks to keep them occupied, to help them acclimate; Em-Kay is young, her kids even younger, and they've been told to draw. It helps them express themselves, or something-- he isn't sure, and Em-Kay doesn't entirely understand it either, even though he knows she asked, but she's said she finds it somewhat relaxing.

She hands him a charcoal stick. They sit in silence, hands stained with black dust and the floor a scribbled-over canvas, until she rubs the last of her charcoal into place and wipes her hands off on her knees. Finn is sketching a map of Starkiller's pipework around her flowers and partial portraits, his mind in a better place than before but still knocked off-kilter.

“Does it help you?” she asks, looking at the pipes. He shrugs, one-shouldered, and rubs away part of a drainage system with his thumb.

They've never asked _are you okay_ before. Not Em-Kay, not any of her kids. The few times anyone has asked them the same, or some variant – _how are you_ , _how are you doing_ – they respond with genuinely puzzled expressions, wondering why the question would even need to be asked. Most of the people on base have chalked it up to none of them knowing much about conversations, but Finn gets it. They'll all survive, and Force willing, they'll even be _happy_ , but one doesn't recover from the First Order. Not really. Not that he's seen.

“A little bit,” he answers.

She hums, peers down at the lattice of piping. “Pop says you're leaving on a mission, soon. Is that why you're here?”

As far as Finn knows, the mission is classified information. He puts down the charcoal stick – now more of a stub – to raise his eyebrows at her. It's her turn to shrug, entirely unconcerned.

“My Cade-- my _kids--_ ” They are not Troopers anymore, and they are not Cadets, but they still trip up now and again. Em-Kay looks frustrated for a brief moment, almost too quick to catch. “My kids like to scout. They were good at it, in primaries. It's when they named each other. And now they don't need anyone to supervise scouting missions, so they just... go.” She waves a hand around, gesturing widely. “Though Pop heard about it waiting in line in the mess hall, in this case.”

He chuckles; he can't help himself. Em-Kay cracks a small smile in return-- yeah, he's in a much better place than before. Poe's jacket over his shoulders helps, too, soft like the uniform but comforting in a way the gray fabric can never, ever be.

“Yeah, it's the mission. Just picking up a package--” A set of intel compiled by one of the Resistance moles within First Order ranks, but the mission really is _classified_ , he can't just spill secrets to anyone. “--shouldn't take more than a couple days, overall. But it's on a First Order base, so they want me in uniform.”

Em-Kay sits bolt upright.

“A _uniform_ ,” she repeats. “Oh. Yes, that's--”

She looks down at her own clothes, charcoal-stained, blues and greens, and one hand reaches up to brush her forehead, where the brim of an officer's cap might be. There's a dark smudge across her skin, above her left eyebrow, when it drops back into her lap.

“I understand,” she nods, and whatever was keeping his thoughts from settling comes unstuck, and he breathes out long and slow. That nod is enough.

“Thanks,” he says, and she smiles again, leaning slightly to the side to nudge his shoulder with her own. “Thank you, Em-Kay.”

“Delta found some paints,” Em-Kay says instead of _you're welcome_ , but he knows she means the same thing, regardless. “Meant for ships, but still paint. We're going to clean, and get those windows open--” Here, she points at the moss-covered panes high above them, and Finn would be worried, except being up that high isn't even dangerous compared to some of the things he did when he was the kids' age and out of primaries. “--for better light, and paint things. Since the doctors said that coloring was good. We can have the windows open by the time you get back, and you can come and paint with us?”

The hangars are old, old, abandoned; the bay doors are rusted shut, and the Resistance doesn't have the fighters to fill the hangars they have open, much less the additional ones on the far side of the base. Finn smiles again at her.

“I think that's-- I'd like that, Em-Kay.”

“Yay!”

Finn jerks, startled-- it's Niner's voice, coming from somewhere, the boy himself entirely out of sight. Em-Kay shrugs again, still unconcerned, murmurs _scouting_ under her breath with a faint smile.

“Seveno is gonna be happy,” he exclaims. “And Delta found more paint!”

“That's good!” Em-Kay answers. Finn is still struggling to calm his racing heartbeat; he can feel a hesitant poke from Rey in the back of his mind and tries to think in her general direction, _it's okay, I'm okay, just a loud noise_.

 _You're a loud noise_ , she responds, just as clearly as if she were sitting next to him, as Em-Kay chatters with her kids. He can almost see her rolling her eyes. Niner has been joined by Delta and Sixes. _You don't need to project so... emphatically._

 _Sorry_. He tries to think more quietly this time. Rey leaves a general sense of amusement lingering, further lifting his spirits, so he guesses that he was successful.

“Does drawing with Em-Kay help?” Two-Sevens appears out of nowhere to plop down next to Finn, on the opposite side from Em-Kay. Niner and Delta and Sixes aren't far behind; the kids don't like to split up.

“We don't get it,” Sixes tells him, sounding slightly confused, “but we like the quiet, and the Officers would never ever let us draw.”

“Helps us,” Delta says brightly, bright orange paint crusted around her fingernails. “Does it help you?”

“A little bit,” Finn says again; he can't draw anything except for maps and diagrams – a valuable skillset in a Trooper – and tends to spar with Rey, or help Poe with shuttle repairs, if he wants to clear his head. Or, once or twice, he's meditated with Jade, whom he still hasn't managed to successfully hold a conversation with (she's a very intimidating woman), but seems to understand all that they've left unspoken regardless. Drawing the sewage system of Starkiller Base isn't his idea of a relaxing time, but being here with people who _understand_ , even if they are kids, so much as anyone who served as a Trooper can ever be a kid, is enough. “Thank you for inviting me to come and paint with you, later.”

“After the mission,” Niner agrees with a nod, and Finn decides to mention to General Organa, next time he sees her, that they should maybe be more careful about where certain things are discussed.

“Yeah. After the mission.” Finn pats the kids on the back, squeezes Em-Kay's shoulder gently, and stands up. “Keep an eye on the base for me while I'm gone, yeah?”

“We'll make sure Miss Rey and Mr. Poe don't worry too much.” Pop tumbles out of... somewhere... to settle in at Delta's side. Finn decides not to question it, and instead bids them farewell.

His mind is more settled. He can think about putting on the uniform with only a minimal amount of discomfort, and he'll practice a few more times before he flies out. For now, though. Now he needs to talk to Poe and Rey.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> For more writerly ramblings and meta, come find me on Tumblr @floraobsidian


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